Dizzy
by betweensleeping
Summary: Sometimes she catches herself reaching out – bracing herself on whatever stationary, and preferably grounded, object is within her reach.


**Prompt: Dizzy**

Sometimes she catches herself reaching out – bracing herself on whatever stationary, and preferably grounded, object is within her reach.

Quinn had never been an overly spontaneous person. That is not to say that she never had any fun, she just…Well, she preferred order, a system, and plans! Yes, that was it, well thought out and made in advance plans.

The moment she had seen him, the moment he had blown into her life, she knew nothing would ever be the same (and by that she meant 'neat and tidy') _ever_ again.

He had swooped into her life like a sudden windstorm, stirring everything up before flying back out again and leaving her reeling in his wake.

_She refused to admit it at the time but as much as she protested and complained – secretly she loved it!_

Today – prime example.

As the owner of a small yet popular florist she prided herself on snappy service, anticipating the needs of her customers and punctuality.

She had been hard at work on flower arrangements for an engagement party the following day when the bell on the shop door sounded. Yelling out a friendly 'Be there in a minute' she wiped her hands on a nearby towel, straightened her apron (an air of professionalism was imperative for small business owners) and made her way from the back room.

When she saw her boyfriend leaning casually against the counter, a roughish smile on his face, she knew to expect trouble. Clad in form fitting black jeans, a white t-shirt and his leather jacket she felt that dizzy feeling begin to settle over her and on reaching the desk she braced herself with her palms flat against the cool surface.

(Note to all females out there: Boys who wear leather jackets and aviators like they are a second skin and an extension of their personality are bad, bad news. One _must _fortify oneself against them no matter how disarming their smile or smooth as honey their words. Well…one should always _endeavour_ to resist…)

"Puck, this is a nice surprise."

Seemingly unbothered by her overly formal greeting (read: I'm busy. Please, _please_ don't pull your Hurricane Puck routine on me now!) he smiled brighter, his eyes taking on the gleam that set her heart racing in more ways than one.

"It's about to get even better!"

"Puck…" she interjected warningly.

(Now, I'm going to stop you hear for a moment and bring you 'note two'. Now matter how low and gravely the voice of your beloved becomes and no matter how much your resolve – and knees – weaken when they call you the following, and apparent 'pet name' it is _not_, I repeat NOT something that should make you feel warm and fuzzy!)

"Babe, c'mon. Live a little."

Yep. She's screwed. (Hey, coupled with those puppy dog eyes and well – she is only human after all!)

Sighing she glanced at her watch, "What did you have in mind?"

And that ladies and gentlemen is how she found herself straddling the back of a Harley Davidson, complete with leather jacket, jeans and boots.

(You've got to hand it to him – he always came prepared to counter her _every _objection!)

She had to admit, the feeling as they fly down the esplanade is pretty amazing. Arms wrapped tightly around his midsection she pushes all thoughts of the arrangements she is going to have to stay up all night completing because they – STOP! Or maybe the face that at eleven this morning (a mere thirty minutes ago) she put on the answering machine and stuck a 'closed for the day – sorry for any inconvenience' sign on the shop door, which will mean that – STOP!

She was just going to enjoy the moment.

Reaching the pier he turned off the bike and took off his helmet, taking hers before holding out his hand so she could climb of the steel beast as gracefully as possible. Keeping hold of her hand he broke into an enthusiastic lope, pulling her towards the end of the pier, as she laughed freely.

And there they stood, her back against his chest and his arms wrapped around her as they leant into the wind – the spray from the pounding surf against the wooden pillars below sprinkling their faces as they closed their eyes and tipped their faces to the sky.

He whispered in her ear and sent shivers down her spine, "What do you reckon babe? Worth the 'risk'?"

Smiling she leant her head back against his shoulder and let herself get caught in the moment, knowing that if she turned she would be met by a smug grin, "I'd say so."

Yep, once again the score read. Hurricane Puck – 1. _Babe_ – dizzy…and loving every second.


End file.
